The Cost of Freedom
by butterflyKisses26
Summary: She wanted a way to escape the society that was suffocating her, the West offered her that freedom. But what happens when she gets more than she bargained for?


Disclaimer: No I don't own Magnificent Seven or anything affiliated with the show. I do, however, own all original characters.

Author's note: How often I update this story will depend on two things. 1) How many reviews I receive per chapter, and 2) how much I enjoy writing the story. So, if you like the story and want me to continue please review and let me know. Reviews always help inspire me to write more.

Spoiler: This story takes place mid first season, some time after Ezra takes over the saloon.

_The Cost of Freedom_

Chapter One

The party was in full swing within the giant ballroom of the manor. Dresses whirled in a dizzying dance of color and chiffon. Glasses clinked as trays of champagne made their way through the crowd. The lilting music of the orchestra wafted upstairs and filtered through the closed bedroom door.

Seated at her vanity, Andrea stared at her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was not a woman she recognized. It was her face, her eyes staring back at her, but it wasn't the true Andrea looking out of that reflection. It was an Andrea that had been created and shaped by New York society, crafted to be the perfect daughter and wife.

"Miss Hayden, your mother wants you downstairs." The maid's voice mixed with the music and sounds of the party. Andrea looked at the young maid, newly employed by her mother just a week ago, in the mirror. How long would this maid last before her mother's harsh demands and criticisms and her father's wandering eyes and groping hands would drive the maid to quit?

"I'll be right down." Andrea replied, checking her hair and tucking a stray strand of raven black hair back into her up-do.

"Yes, ma'am." The maid dipped a curtsey and back out of the room, closing the door behind her.

A heavy, heart-weary sigh filled the room. This party was nothing more than excuse to announce Andrea's engagement to Darren Calliwell, a young oil tycoon and long time friend of the family. As children, she and Darren had played together. Their friendship ended when Andrea saw how Darren was turning into just another spoiled rich boy; treating those of lesser status like dirt, gambling and drinking, and using the maids for his own pleasure. Such were the ways of the elite, and Andrea was sick of it all. She didn't want to continue in this circle, marrying Darren, pretending to be oblivious to his numerous affairs, all while raising his children who would grow up to be just as spoiled and conceited as their father.

This may have been her engagement party, but to Andrea it was a prison, a way of putting her into the diamond encrusted shackles she would wear for the rest of her life. Another sigh escaped Andrea as she stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her rose colored gown. It was time to face the executioner.

* * *

Andrea's face ached with the effort of keeping up the cheerful smile that the party demanded. Time seemed to crawl as she greeted guest after guest, exchanging well wishes and mind-numbing small talk, waiting for the moment when the ax would fall and her fate would be sealed.

It seemed forever before the orchestra stopped and the tinkling of a crystal Champaign glass rang through the silence. Andrea cringed inwardly while her face remained an impassive mask of smiles and happiness. Her mother appeared at her side, smiling and excusing Andrea from the group she was talking to, and guided her towards the front of the room where a makeshift stage had been erected. Andrea's father stood there with a stoic expression on his face, the closest he ever came to showing emotion, with Darren at his side. As Andrea stepped onto the stage, Darren's superior gaze fixed on her, lingering too long on where her dress dipped fashionably in the front. With her back to the guests, Andrea glared at him in disgust, causing Darren's triumphant grin to widen into a stomach twisting smirk.

Andrea forced herself not to cringe as her father cleared his throat and Darren's hand claimed her arm. The gates of her gilded cage were about to slam shut.

* * *

She had to escape. The room, the crush of people gathering around to congratulate her, the heady scent of colognes and Champaign were all overwhelming Andrea. She needed to find some retreat. Her mother was watching her like a hawk from across the room and Darren was stuck closely to Andrea's side, keeping her effectively trapped. The heirloom diamond ring which Darren had placed on her finger just five minutes ago rested there heavily, signifying what she was truly worth in society. Her life for a diamond, the thought sickened her.

The heat of the room was overwhelming. Feeling faint, Andrea tugged her hand free of Darren's grip.

"If you all will excuse me," she said, "I believe I need some fresh air."

"Allow me to escort you, dear." Darren said his grip returning, tight and menacing. Andrea bit her lip angrily, but quickly plastered on a smile.

"Thank you, darling." She drawled endearingly. "Isn't he just the perfect gentleman?" She giggled daintily with the women standing around them. The older women giggled with her, sounding like a batch of school girls at the devilish wink Darren gave them before escorting Andrea out of the room and into the Hayden's garden, which was well known throughout New York as one of the most beautiful gardens in all Manhattan.

Once free of the oppressing room, Darren steered her towards a dark corner of the garden.

"Let's get something straight here," he said, pushing her roughly up against the wall of the house. The clouds obscuring the moon kept his face in shadow, making his dark tone that much more menacing. The brick wall scratched Andrea's arms where her sleeves and gloves didn't meet up, and Darren's fingers dug into her skin through her silk gloves.

"Stop it, Darren, you're hurting me." She struggled against his vice-like grip, her voice tinged with the slightest bit of fear.

"You listen to me, Andrea," he snapped, ignoring her struggles, "you are going to be my wife whether you like it or not." The fingers of his left hand caressed her collarbone while his right hand moved up and down her arm seductively.

"Now you can fight it," he leaned close, his breath heavy with alcohol on her lips, "or you can enjoy it."

"We are not married yet you pig." Andrea spat, pushing and fighting against his hold. "So I would appreciate it if you didn't act like we were."

"You know you want this," he whispered, his lips brushing her earlobe.

"No I don't." Andrea brought her knee up between Darren's legs, causing him to release her and double over in pain. He swore loudly, glaring at her as he nursed his wound.

"Don't ever touch me like that again." She seethed before turning in a whirl of silk and lace to go back to the party.

* * *

"Andrea, dear, where's Darren?" Her mother was at her side as soon as Andrea stepped back into the ballroom.

"He just needed some fresh air." Andrea replied sweetly.

"Don't you ruin this for us, Andrea." Her mother whispered fiercely, "you know how much this marriage means to this family."

"Yes, Mother, I know," Andrea bit back. "You remind me of that fact every day."

"Only because you insist on acting like this is a joke."

"Believe me, Mother, I don't think this marriage is a joke. Just another prison for you and Father to lock me in." With that, Andrea lost herself in the crowd of dancers and revelers.

* * *

The Hayden mansion was deathly silent as Andrea crept stealthily down the grand staircase. Rich moonlight filtered through the drawn curtains of the French windows that lined the front hall, casting lacy shadows across the marble floor. Andrea held her breath as her stocking feet padded gently down the stairs.

It had all come to this. She had to leave this place and get away from the marriage that would surely kill her. Andrea had a little money saved up from the allowance her father gave her for clothes and other "womanly purchases." It wasn't much money, but it would have to do until she could find some way to earn more. That wasn't going to be easy however as Andrea had never worked a day in her life and had no skills that would pertain to any type of job. But Andrea was an intelligent woman, she would figure out a way to keep herself alive. After all, anything would be better than marrying Darren. Andrea just had to make sure that she got far enough away that nobody would be able to find her.

Unlocking the oak front doors and opening them as silently as she could, Andrea slipped outside into the fresh night air. She breathed in deeply, she could smell freedom. It was so close, all she needed to do was reach out and grab it. Taking in a deep, fortifying breath, Andrea closed the door behind her and headed down the front walk to the gates.

_This is it_, she thought as she opened the gates.

"I'm really going to do this." She said to the streetlamps that lit the dark Manhattan streets. "I'm really leaving. I'm striking out on my own and making my own way from now on."


End file.
